


Brave New World

by BonitaBreezy



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hope for the future, Kieren is not here for relationship miscommunication, M/M, Simon needs to mold minds, this is totally unbeta'd I apologize in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:53:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonitaBreezy/pseuds/BonitaBreezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon traded his second life's purpose for Kieren.  Kieren reflects on what that means for them, as individuals and as a couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not British, but I did live in England for five months so I did my best to write like an English person might talk. It's probably not that great but I tried and therefore no one can judge me. First In the Flesh fic, so hopefully it's not completely awful.

Kieren could see from the street that the Legion was crowded with people, or, crowded for the Legion at least.  He could see through the pale light streaming from the windows that someone had set up a television.  It was tuned to some sort of sports commentary, but would later probably be turned to the news so that they could watch coverage of the new year breaking.  He kept walking.

It had only been three weeks since the failed Second Rising.  Three weeks since he and Simon had started their tentative dating.  Three weeks since Amy had come alive and been killed again just as abruptly.  There was still an uncomfortably awkward plague of guilt and failure hanging over the town.  The Living were keeping their distance, being outwardly polite in that disdainful English way that said they were doing it simply because they felt they had to, and not because they thought the PDS sufferers ( _Undead!_ Amy’s voice whispered in his head) deserved it.  The Undead, on the other hand, were going out of their way to make the Living feel comfortable with their presence, but they did so with a vague aura of repressed anger.  They still wanted the Second Rising to happen, but it was obvious, at least to Kieren, that they were biding their time until they could make it happen.  Simon had been very good at getting them all to drink the Kool-Aid.

Simon himself was a difficult case at the moment.  He had admitted to Kieren the whole plan, how he was supposed to be sacrificed, and how it had taken Simon until it was almost too late to realize that he could never do it.  He had thrown away his entire life for Kieren, which was a sacrifice so large that Kieren couldn’t think about it without getting anxious.  He was grateful, of course, and part of him was warmed by the knowledge that Simon cared for him so much, but it was also a great burden, knowing how much stock Simon put in Kieren’s continued existence.

They had talked about it, as much as they could bring themselves to, and they’d fallen into a comfortable understanding with each other.  Kieren didn’t want to be Simon’s new cause.  He didn’t want to be up on that pedestal, because he was fallible.  At some point something would happen, he would do or say something that would hurt Simon or shake his belief, and he couldn’t live with being the reason that his boyfriend’s life tilted on its axis all over again.  It was too much pressure.

Simon had agreed that he didn’t want that to happen.  He’d explained that he’d been clinging to Kieren recently because Kieren was all he had left, and that he’d needed a solid anchor to keep him in place while he sorted out his thoughts and his life and what his next steps would be.  The idea that Simon thought of him as a solid and unshakable point had been somewhat touching, particularly considering how often Kieren felt like everything was out of his control, and he was just barely hanging on.  It renewed some strength and confidence in him, knowing that he was needed.

Their conversation had been stilted, confusing, and at times uncomfortable, but in the end they had settled it as well as they could.  They wanted to be together, so they would be.  Simon would need to figure out how to keep fighting for the cause of PDS sufferers without the backing of the Undead Prophet, and without the radical extremism.  Kieren had made it very clear he had no intention of being an accessory to stunts like the one that had killed Ken Burton, and Simon had agreed to find another way.

It had been draining and emotional and just so very tiring, particularly because they were both still sore from Amy’s death, but Kieren was glad they’d sorted it out.  He’d never been able to talk to Rick that way, to know where they stood with each other and what they wanted from each other, and to be completely secure about his place in Simon’s life, and Simon’s place in his.  He found that he liked the reassurance and stability of it all, particularly when everything else in his life was balanced tentatively on a precipice.

Amy’s bungalow was dark when he reached it, except for a single light shining through the front window.  He let himself in because Simon was the only person who stayed there anymore, and he was expected anyway.  He didn’t bother with any of the lights, just turned into the sitting room where Simon was curled up in the corner of the sofa in one of his endearingly ugly over-sized jumpers.  He glanced up from the page of his book when Kieren entered the room and gave him a small smile.

“Just give me a minute to finish the chapter, yeah?” He didn’t wait for Kieren to answer before he returned his attention back to the page, his eyes flicking quickly back and forth as he read.  Kieren didn’t mind.  He settled down on the other side of the couch and spread out, carefully making sure the soles of his boots hung off the edge of the couch.  Simon flipped the page and rested his palm on Kieren’s ankle, giving it an affectionate stroke.

The book he was reading was called _Malcolm X Speaks_ and had a picture of a stern looking black man in horn-rimmed glasses on the cover.  He seemed to be rather engrossed in it, and Kieren rested his cheek against the back of the sofa and watched him.  It was easy to tell when he’d read something he thought was interesting because his grip on the book tightened and the tips of his fingers pressed a bit flatter against the cover.  Kieren imagined his knuckles would have gone white, if he’d had any circulation to cut off.

His fingers relaxed again and he closed the book setting it on the cushion between them.  His face looked thoughtful and for a long moment he made no move to get up, but then he finally turned his head a bit and tightened his grip on Kieren’s ankle.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, like they hadn’t just seen each other the day before.

“Dealing,” Kieren answered honestly. “Things are still weird at home because mum and dad feel so guilty.  Jem went to her first therapy session today, and it’s left her in a foul mood.  I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say to them, and I think they’re not really sure what to say to me either.”

“It’s difficult for them to see you as you truly are,” Simon said. “They’d deluded themselves into thinking it was all the same, and it’s not.”  He didn’t sound judgmental or supportive of them.  He just said it like he was stating a fact that Kieren could do with what he would.

“I know,” he said. “I think they keep hoping I’ll start wearing the mousse and contacts again.  I know the eyes bother Jem quite a bit…”

“Your eyes, Kieren,” Simon corrected gently.  Kieren knew that being comfortable with himself would require him to stop distancing himself from his “condition”, but it was hard to admit that his own family family found his appearance disconcerting.

“Fine, right, _my_ eyes bother Jem quite a bit,” Kieren corrected himself.  “I’m stuck between trying to accept myself as I am and trying not to rock the boat at home.  It’s exhausting.”

Simon propped one arm up on the back of the couch and gestured at him, so Kieren moved so that he was laying wedged between the back of the couch and Simon’s body, his face rested against Simon’s shoulder.  It wouldn’t be comfortable for long, but for right now the closeness was absolutely what he needed.

“You, Kieren Walker,” Simon began in a way that was so reminiscent of Amy that it made them both shiver, “are beautiful and extraordinary.  Your family loves you, and they’ll come around.  Don’t you ever doubt that.”

“I’m trying,” Kieren mumbled, but he pressed a kiss to Simon’s cheek to show his appreciation.  They laid there quietly for a few more minutes until the phone started to ring and they had to dig through the cushions to find it.

Simon came up with it from behind him where it had been wedged between his back and the arm of the sofa and answered.  There was a long pause and he flicked his eyes over to Kieren and looked vaguely uncomfortable before handing over the phone wordlessly.

“Um, hello?” Kieren asked the phone.

“Kier, you’re not allowed to go running off to your boyfriend’s house and leave me all alone with Mum and Dad for New Year’s,” Jem said, her voice quick and just slightly high-pitched at the idea of being the sole focus of whatever their father might have cooked up for celebrating the holiday.

“I’ve not run off,” Kieren protested, rolling his eyes at Simon who still looked a little spooked.  The poor man was extremely awkward when it came to dealing with Kieren’s family.  He wanted to seem respectable so that Kieren’s parents would like him, but he was also twitchy about parents.  Kieren assumed it had something to do with his past life as a drug addict.  He probably hadn’t gotten along all that swimmingly with his parents. “Dad suggested I invite Simon for dinner so we can sit there and awkwardly watch you all eat and then go out for the fireworks.  We’ll be heading over any moment now.”

“You better be here, Kier, I absolutely can’t stand sitting here pretending like everything’s not gone to shit by myself.” She sounded suspicious, like she thought he was lying to her and was going to leave her on her own.

“We’ll be there,” Kieren assured her. “Now can I hang up the phone so that we can get ready?”

“All right,” she sighed, and hung up without a goodbye.

“She used to be so sweet,” Kieren told Simon forlornly, only half joking.  Simon cracked a half-there smile and picked a couple pieces of lint from his jumper.

“Hey,” Kieren said, waiting until Simon looked at him to keep speaking. “You don’t have to come, if you don’t want. I know that my parents make you uncomfortable.”

“They don’t make me uncomfortable,” Simon protested, looking more passionate than he had in weeks. “I just hate to make things harder for you than they have to be.”

“Having you around is not a hardship,” Kieren insisted, pressing a kiss to the corner of Simon’s mouth, smiling when Simon turned into it and pressed back in that insistent way that he had that made Kieren feel like the most important person in the world. “Now come on, up you go.  If we wait much longer Jem will probably come get us herself.”

* * *

 

Dinner had been, as predicted, very awkward.  Though Kieren’s mum had finally gotten the hang of not serving Kieren food, she had to be reminded about Simon.  Jem had cleared out the awkwardness with some brash comment about their mother losing her memory in her old age and things had calmed down.  Despite not eating, though, they both had place settings in front of them and Simon didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.  He kept fiddling with the silverware and then realizing what he was doing and tucking his hands into his lap, only to start fiddling again after a few minutes.

Kieren finally solved the problem by holding Simon’s hand under the table so that he could fiddle with Kieren’s fingers a little less obviously.  Kieren’s father tried to keep them included in the conversation, but had reached several dead ends.  Questions about a job came to a quick halt with the reminder that Simon had, up until very recently, been in a high position of an extremist group.  Questions about family had been met with a haunted sort of look and had required a quick change of subject.  There was only so much that could really be said about where he was from.

“Dublin, yes I miss it sometimes, no I don’t think I’ll be going back anytime soon.” End of conversation.  Finally, Jem had saved them all by rolling her eyes and complaining loudly about a teacher that she wasn’t fond of.  It gave them all a point of familiarity.  They’d all had teachers that they didn’t like, and they all had stories to share.

It was a blessing when they finished eating and started making noise about heading out to the large clearing close to the cemetery where the fireworks show would be put on.  His parents and Jem went upstairs to change into warmer clothes, so Kieren went as well.

“You’re doing it again,” Simon said quietly as Kieren pulled on a jacket.

“Doing what?” Kieren asked, even though he knew exactly what.

“You’re conforming with what they expect you to do.  Why put on a coat when you won’t even feel the cold?”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Grandad Jumper.  Don’t forget, I’ve seen that gigantic parka you wear all the time.” He was mostly teasing, but only mostly.  Simon did things to conform to the Living all the time and he didn’t even realize it.  Kieren didn’t see why he had to be so vigilant about it with everyone else.  Simon wasn’t bothered by Kieren’s accusation, but he looked down at his jumper, frowned, and then ran a hand over his front self-consciously.

“Do you not like my jumpers?”

“That is entirely not the point,” Kieren insisted, “but I have absolutely nothing against your grandad jumpers.  They’re cute.”

That seemed to appease him, but Kieren wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “Listen, I know I don’t get cold.  But putting on a jacket doesn’t inconvenience me or make me uncomfortable, so I don’t mind doing it if it’ll help put them at ease.  I’m not trying to hide what I am anymore, but I also don’t feel the need to be abrasive about it.”

Simon focused on him for a long minute with his slightly unnerving unblinking stare, and then he nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt anything.  I suppose I’m just too stubborn for my own good.”

“You are,” Kieren agreed, smiling softly. “But I believe that your heart is in the right place.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Simon was filling his space with his presence, kissing him in that desperate sort of way that he did.  Kieren leaned into him, still enamored with the newness of it all and the way Simon always cradled his face like he couldn’t help but hold on.  After a long moment, Kieren pulled away, and he smiled when Simon chased after him.

“My family is probably waiting for us,” he reminded gently, and Simon huffed quietly but released him.

“If we must go,” he said, like it was a huge hardship.

“We must,” Kieren answered mock-seriously, and they headed downstairs.

* * *

 

Maybe half the town had shown up for the fireworks, and at least half of that half spent a good amount of time staring at Kieren and Simon where they sat in the grass with their sides pressed together.  He wasn’t sure if it was because they were PDS or because they were two men holding hands, but either way he could feel Simon getting more and more tense as time went on.  It must have been taking all of his willpower to resist starting a fight with someone, but resist he did, and Kieren was thankful for it.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he murmured, leaning his head against Simon’s shoulder.  

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Simon replied, like his nonchalant declaration of devotion didn’t almost make Kieren’s heart start beating again.  He relaxed a bit more against Kieren’s side and squeezed his fingers gently.

There were still about ten minutes until midnight, so mostly there was just the murmur of voices around them as everyone waited around.  There had been a bit of festivity earlier, with some booths around peddling food and hosting some games, but it had all closed down in preparation for getting out quickly after the fireworks were finished.

“Simon?” a voice said, sounding meek and uncertain.  They both turned to see a young blonde girl who Kieren recognized from some of the followers Simon had been amassing at Amy’s bungalow.

“Frankie, hello,” Simon said, his voice pleasant but also guarded.  Kieren didn’t miss the way Simon shifted his body to block his own, like maybe he thought the girl would lash out and try to sacrifice him for the Second Rising. Considering what had happened to Amy, perhaps it wasn’t the most irrational of suspicions.

“I, um,” she started, and then her voice faltered. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to say that I’d heard that you were a traitor to the Undead Prophet.” She spoke with her voice pitched so low Kieren had a difficult time hearing her.  It was probably for the best, considering all the Living people surrounding them.

“We disagree on the best way to bring about change, yes,” Simon said carefully.  He was staring at her unblinking, like maybe if he just looked hard enough he could figure out what she wanted. “But I assure you I still believe that the change needs to happen.”

She nodded slowly and chewed on her bottom lip.  Her contact-covered eyes flicked around, taking in the people around them like a nervous ticket, and then she leaned a little closer.

“I don’t think I agree with the Undead Prophet either,” she whispered. “I saw what Blue Oblivion does, and it was terrifying.  I don’t want to hurt people.” Simon didn’t say anything, waiting lfor her to finish her thoughts.  She looked pathetically grateful for it. “I did like some of the stuff you said though, in those group meetings.  They made me feel less like a freak.  I just...it was nice to talk to someone who understood and didn’t make me feel bad about something I couldn’t control.”

“I’m glad I could help you,” Simon said diplomatically.

“I was hoping that maybe I could start coming by again,” she said. “Now that you’re not a Disciple anymore...I just miss having a place to talk and be myself.  Would that be okay?”

Simon did his staring thing again, and Kieren was impressed by the girl’s ability to to keep her eyes on his face without shrinking back.  Simon’s stare could be extremely intimidating, Kieren knew.

“I think that would be all right,” he said finally, and a smile broke across her face.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ve also got a couple of friends who...well, they don’t really know how to deal with all of this.  I think it would help them to have someone like us to talk to.” She trailed off, watching Simon’s face closely.

“You’re welcome to bring your friends as well,” Simon said, and he smiled to put her at ease. “I’m not a therapist, but I’ll help in any way I can, alright?”

“Thanks, Simon.  We’ll come round on Wednesday, if that’s all right?”

Simon nodded and she hurried away back towards her parents, who were sitting on a blanket a few families away.

“So,” Kieren said, nudging Simon’s side with his elbow.

“I know,” Simon said quietly. “But it won’t be like it was before.  I’m not looking to convert to a cause I can no longer support.  But they’re just kids, and if I can help them…”

“I think it’ll be good,” Kieren interrupted his fumbled excuses. “It’ll be good for them, and for you.  You need a flock to take care of, I think.”

“I think you’re right,” Simon said. “People like us need a support system that isn’t centered around extremism.  And I need to know that I’m doing everything I can to help. I still believe in some of the Prophet’s teachings.”

“I know you do.  Maybe you can use this opportunity to figure out how to spread your beliefs in a less violent way.”

“Maybe,” Simon muttered, and Kieren could practically see the gears turning in his brain as he started to think.

“Oi, fifteen seconds!” someone yelled, and then was a loud rumble of voices that started to yell out the countdown.  Kieren looked around him, at his parents who were smiling and counting, at Jem who was rolling her eyes at their parents but smiling, at Simon who was lost in thought, and he felt content.  He wasn’t even supposed to be here.  He’d died years ago, heartbroken and alone in a cave, and now he was sitting with his family who loved him and his boyfriend who made him feel like he deserved the world.

As the countdown hit zero, the first volley of fireworks exploded in the sky, and Kieren wrapped his hand around Simon’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.  A lot had happened in the past few years.  Impossible things, terrible things, and great ones. There was still a lot to figure out for all of them, what they were supposed to do with their unexpected time, and how exactly they all fit into this new version of the world.  It was frightening and daunting.

Kieren found, sitting in a grassy field with the people he loved, kissing his boyfriend with fireworks exploding overhead, that, for the first time, he felt ready to face their brave new world.


End file.
